


A Jack and a Queen

by PreAlexa



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV), Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Xena: Warrior Princess, Community: rarepair100, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Desire, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, GJChallenge (Gentleman Jack), HQ Rarepair Week, I'm Bad At Tagging, If you only read one work by me, Jack is a Tease, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Not Beta Read, Read, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Strong Female Characters, Unpopular Pairing July
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-05 21:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20279836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreAlexa/pseuds/PreAlexa
Summary: What happens when a 19th century reborn, low-society Xena meets with the slightly upper-crust British society and has frigid dealings with Anne, aka Gentleman Jack?I know cross-overs may not be popular, but I am trying to blend the two into an interesting saga mostly relying on Gentleman Jack series vs Xena.





	1. Chapter 1

The dark haired beauty had awoken to hear the usual rustic noises of her farm. Such sounds were fond memories of her childhood. This estate wasn’t small, per se, but nothing abundant on the land granted her much in the way of luxury, such as coal mines lurking under some homesteads, which were plentiful in areas, or sustainable farmland for more than an acre or two.

Still, it was hers to work and she worked it hard, knowing how to toil the soil and extract the riches given in little amounts. She was no fool. She was tough, limber, and strong, with many valuable skills including training horses and farming in the days when women were supposed to have a husband.

Such as it may be, she felt no need to have a man around the house. Her old help, Ares, was a pompous and arrogant man, and more than enjoyed watching her rippled muscles pull the yoke of the cattle every spring and pull from the ground what was to be stored for winter.

“You’re the only woman I know who can make farming look sexy.” He was always sexualizing her. It’s what men like him did. She’d grimace and rebuke his unwanted advances. He was an attractive man, but she wasn’t into the one-sided banter and didn’t appreciate being ogled. Not by him. Her only recourse was to fire him. He was often loud and belligerent and in a last effort to reign in some guilt, replied, “Hey, my family is broken apart and I’m unwelcome! I can’t go back to Greece!"

“I can see why you’re unwelcome. It’s not my problem. Get out of here, Ares. You’re lazy and of no use to me.” She was ruefully blunt with men, but with most of them, it was the only way to convey a message, and usually a resounding retort like “bitch” followed suit.

She spun around quickly with one foot just under his chin, and one leg planted into the ground, with both fists raised up above. She was a steady as a canoe in a calm lake. “I said leave, Ares.” He knew better to tussle with her.

\----------------------

Someone came rapping at her door the following morning, just as she was about to collect the eggs from the hens.

“Hello, my dear, and good morning to you. How’dya do?” She tipped her top hat with her pompous cane. Her slight smile never quite made it to her eyes and it was more a smile of formality than fondness.

“Morning, Ms. Lister. What service might I provide today?” She drawled out the sentence with feigned interest. Xena knew she why she came by, but never understanding why when she could have had any of her henchmen come by instead.

“I’m here for collections.” Again, the cock of the head with the slightest of sarcastic smiles.

Xena was momentarily confused. “I’ve paid my rent dues, and I’m willing to lend a hand if you need assistance, but not for free, as you receive more than a fair portion in rent and commodities for me to live on this shoddy plot of land, which bears little in the way of exports.” She enjoyed an undercurrent caustic tone as she could employ with Ms. Lister. She was far more precious a tenant than any they’ve had. It allowed her a bit of extra ‘expression’.

“Hm.” Anne said tersely. ”But you have chickens who lay very fine eggs."

Ms. Lister stood there, still in a half grin, her dark brown eyes boring into Xena’s bright blue ones. They each stood the same height. Power plays were common with these two.

The truth was, Xena felt she earned this land more than Ms. Lister’s family through generations of land hand-me-downs. She made something cold, rocky, challenging into a fertile enough plot to earn more than her keep, to pay her rent, as well as to sell the extra food staples such as butter, cream, dairy, eggs, vegetables and even some horses to the wealthier locals.

Ms. Lister saw things differently. She compromised on the rent, which she felt was more than fair, with a quarter of Xena’s provisions being bestowed to her kitchen staff, to feed the Lister family, hired help and footmen. These bonuses earned Xena a certain privilege at the Shibden proverbial table unlike the other tenants, and extra meals were often sent back to Xena so she wouldn’t have to cook while taming the land she worked, and then Xena could profit however she wanted, but the land was Lister’s and no towering, powerful, dark-haired vixen would get the best of her.

“Shall I wait as you gather the eggs, then?” Ms. Lister sat down upon the only decent Victorian chair in the premises, took off her top hat, and clutched her hands in her lap, with her feet upon a foot stool. She turned her head, grinning still at Xena.

“Give me a few minutes as I get your ‘collections'.” Xena disliked being her maid service, yet she had little choice in the matter. At least for now.

\-------------

As she softly clucked to the hens to allow her access to the eggs, Xena ruminated. She found Anne to be educated and often watched her use her powers of knowledge to intimidate others around her, including herself, although Xena refused to allow the other woman privy of it. Anne was well-read, well-traveled and stately arrogant. A female Ares she’d often mentally compare. She knew Anne was an avid writer, as well, and kept many well-documented diaries of all her exploits and experiences, her family, friends and even her tenants. Xena didn’t take too kindly to being fodder in one of her ‘books’, and the rationing of her hard work to simply give the Lister clan more, when they had money enough from other less reliable and resourceful renters, to put food on the table and keep the estate running with above average currency made her rather intolerant of the landowner.

She saw Anne Lister as a challenging figure, grating to her nerves, pithy and still....and still there was something which drew her to answer the door each Monday of the week and offer the landowner her best eggs. What compelled her to be amenable? Perhaps both were the same side of a one-sided coin. A trick of the ages, but not a coin of bargaining power when they each canceled the other out.

Xena was a powerful woman in her own right. She, too, was well-traveled, and though not as versed in the way of reading and writing (which she could do), she adapted valuable and unique skills during her journeys and that would take her further than a book could. No other woman could do an impressive round-house kick while carrying a sack of flour upon her shoulders. No other woman could do gymnastic feats of acrobatics, carrying a pot of water, without spilling a drop. She had abilities she knew could easily take out the largest man in any local city, such as Yorkshire, which, in her view, was especially dull. The society class elite trying hard to emulate the courtiers of nobility, but lacking the name, the wealth, and the nobility of such rank. Still, they do put on a glorious show, full of pomp and circumstance and rumor-baiting. Xena wanted quiet. Quiet she would never get.

There was something about Xena which drove Anne to haughtily knock on her renter’s door each Monday morning, even if the excuse was to collect eggs for the week’s menu. Anne also was curious where Xena was from, where she traveled, how educated she was. She knew she was from Greece originally, but what brought her to England and then settle to Yorkshire, of all places. She was aware of her talents and unique skills. She was familiar with her rogue disposition - a trait she admired and understood within herself all too well. For all her musings, for all her excuses to retrieve farm-to-table commodities, or to inquire about a leaky barn roof, she could barely glint any information from her tenant, and mysteries were part of what made Anne tick.

\-------------------

“Xena. What kind of name is that? It’s not a proper English one. You know, I hear she’s from Greece. They’re practically barbarians!” 

She’d overhear these local folk conversations at the nearby pub where she took kindly to every Friday evening, wanting her alone time and yet to be with social ‘strangers’ that she still knew well enough on a first name basis. After a few rough and tumbles, the men steered clear of her. “She’s a Fred, you know,” they’d taunt. Xena would drink her ale, read a book, or simply look ahead, lost in time and memories of her past.

They said the same thing about Anne Lister. A stubborn woman with a one track mind and a fetching personality when she turned on the charm. She and Xena had more in common than either woman cared to admit. They both wore black. The both had inviting smiles and twinkling eyes when the occasion rose. They both had a gait in their walk which bestowed confidence. Xena carried herself with a regality which juxtaposed the farm life she lived, worked and breathed. Anne carried herself with regality of being born into some privilege. Not a soul dared to breach angry territory with either headstrong woman. It was simply a given.

\--------------------------

Anne had set her eyes on a young doll of a woman roughly 12 years her junior. Xena suspected she set her sights on this frail girl because she was ridiculously wealthy, very young and naive for her age, and no man she would commit to, no matter how many times she’s been asked in marriage. She was perfect territory for the infamous Gentleman Jack.

Xena had also had this young woman in her sights. Not for her money, but because she knew she was a closeted “fred” as herself, and she missed companionship since her recent lover had left her for a man. It always happened the same way. She’d let her guard down, stubbornly allowing the emotions of falling in love to overtake her common sense, virtually guaranteeing her lover would come crying, claiming that her hand had been asked in marriage because it was ‘safer'. Safer for whom?

She wasn’t into men, unless she needed help rebuilding one of the roofs over the barn, (although she could do it by herself, but extra hands and a few ales were enough to get a town beggar, or a desperate young man needing some extra shillings to take a date proper out for an evening), and they were obliging to assist. She had a few male friends. They knew of her dalliances with women. They’d sometimes venture too far into the territory of asking questions, but they, too, accepted Xena as ‘one of them’ and had a pal to confide and drink a bourbon or an ale with at the pub. She even made friends with a few men who preferred the company of their own sex and earned their trust to never say a word. Men, in that time of Europe, would be hanged for these affections.

During evenings, when things had quieted down and she sat before her fireplace, her thoughts often drifted to the woman who left her for a man, because these traditions of England were utterly stiff and rigid with rules and doctrines and following societal structures to a “T," so that any woman who felt keen upon another woman would be emotionally exiled. Far too many women simply couldn’t handle it, whereas Xena would have none of it. She came from a different country where men might keep the company of other men, and women often consorted as bed-mates. She had proven her worth for herself and knew these people, in the uncompromising town of Yorkshire, would never see beyond the classist view which labeled Xena as a way-past-her-prime spinster unsuitable for marriage, albeit she was only 30 years of age. In Greece, she hadn’t met her prime of life yet. Here, in Yorkshire, a woman working on a farm, with dirt under her fingernails and muddy boots, was knee-deep into the gossip mill.

She plodded through town with all the amenities a man might carry. She had a rifle on her back and a whip to keep away unwanted suitors. She never side-saddled a horse, but rode as a man would. She kept a rucksack for her supplies when she hunted for game, or bought commodities at merchant storefronts. The whip, however, was one of her talents. She could nab a bird from a tree with a quick crack of it, and the next moment, gently use it as a teaching guide to break in a new horse for selling. She kept to herself, yet dreamed she might find a lover; someone whom might truly see inside of her. To see she was a woman, even feminine at times, and longed for the sensual love another woman could bring.

Not too far off, in Shibden Hall, another dark-haired woman had similar dreams. She craved love, as well as intimacy, and wanted to be loved in return. Being ‘hard’ each and every day was exhausting. It cast people away. To put forth the energy and...not illusion it was, but the constant proving of her merits was eternally exhausting. Back in her bedroom, away from prying and judgmental eyes, Anne was a woman out of touch with her century. She wasn’t as hard on the inside as she appeared. However, this could never change. She had to be hard. Her only resolve were the moments she could turn to her Aunt and weep on her shoulder, almost childlike, as her Aunt, understanding of Anne’s sexual preferences and willfulness, always loved and accepted her for who she was. A refreshing rarity in conservative, gospel-preaching, and god-fearing Halifax township.

\-------------------------------------


	2. Invitations from a Gentleman; a Gentleman Jack

Xena watched a quick-striding woman, cane in hand as her weapon of sorts, quickly engulf her personal space within her corner in the markets; her frilly neckpiece, a vest, a well-placed pocket watch, a neatly pressed topcoat and a gentleman’s top hat in proper place, as usual, and she stopped as quickly as she moved. Xena faced her, gave a quick nod in her direction, but continued selling the newly grown crop of corn and buckwheat to a few customers.

“Ah, it’s you. Here. Of course you’d be here.” Anne spared no sentiment nor was she overtly careful in her approach to Xena. The demeanor changed immediately.

“Yessssss, Ms. Lister...” she hissed. “It’s what I do so I can pay you.”

Anne squinted her eyes briefly before pressing on. Truth is, she knew exactly where Xena was and purposely came to the markets to find her. “You’ve been on my land for 2 years now, and do you know, you’ve never told me your full name. My footman is preparing invites to a formal at Shibden, where some dignitaries will be...some from other parts of the world. Your part of the world, to be exact. And I want you to come so they feel welcome. I will not take no for an answer, or, to be blunt, I’ll put your rent up to premium prices.”

Xena hated threats. She glowered at Anne. Anne never flinched. “Good, we’ll see you next Saturday, then. Starts at 5:00. My footmen will deliver something more...proper...for you to wear.” She waved her cane in some disgust at the attire Xena was currently wearing. She began to stride away at a horse-gait pace, but quickly turned and said, “Last name again?”

“Thrace. Xena Thrace.” She would have to explain that one she’d imagine, because her last name of Princess wasn’t exactly befitting for a woman working in the elements and she knew Anne Lister was no fool. She’d be prepared, ask the questions and listen for any untruths.

\----------------------------------------------------

A knock at the door early the following morning awoke Xena, as it was a rare opportunity for her to sleep in. Sundays were her only opportunity to have an extra hour or two without obligations. This irritated her. This city rarely afforded her any privacy, even if she were on land secluded enough from the bustle of the downtown markets.

She strode from her bed and flipped opened the door, uncaring of the manner of the dishevelment which greeted the uninvited guest.

“Allo, madam, a dress from Shibden Hall for you, as requested by Ms. Lister.” He pushed the package in her arms, prepared a quick and formal bow, then turned on heel back to his horse and carriage.

As promised by Ms. Lister, a dress had been delivered for Xena. There was a note written within the wrapped parchment. Tiny, difficult to read handwriting, but Xena made out most of it.

'My man will come for you at 4:30 for a prompt arrival at 5:00. Be dressed, be prepared to mix in circles, as you will certainly be one of our more interesting sources of entertainment for our guests.

yours, 

Anne L.'

Xena pulled off the wrappings and removed the dress. She let it drop from the shoulders down to the floor to expose the full length. She had to hand it to Ms. Lister for understanding her style, if she were to have one, given formal wear wasn’t her specialty on a farm. It had tapering sleeves down to the hands, a built in corset which laced in the front, and unique ornamentations woven in gold tone around the shoulders, down to the front of the breast line which streamlined straight down toward the naval. These patterns were scrolling in design, a bold ornamentation of thick weaving patterns - a familiar design she would often see in Greece. The color was a dark blue. It brought out her eye color stunningly. The gown commanded attention, but off in the usual fashion of the day. There was a topcoat built into the dress, a somewhat similar style Anne Lister often adorns, but this was more open and flowing, giving her freedom of movement without constrictions. It was a statement still and others were sure to be unsettled and unsure of such a bold style, yet she knew it would garner the approval of a particularly resourceful landlord.

She new Anne Lister was using her for something. Xena was no stranger to manipulations. She couldn’t afford to part her tenant’s agreement, albeit she felt bitter about some of that. She also, like Ares, couldn’t go home. She traveled to Europe and settled down in an area where she could put herself to physical work. She needed to feel the pain signals her body sent out each night to keep her distracted from thinking about home, to exhaust her so she wouldn’t repeat the events of how her family had died in a war. A man’s war which caused the needless deaths of women and children. She fought, she killed, she did many terrible things in revenge. At least here, in this odd and forsaken city, she could start anew. Pretend none of it happened. The quiet of the nights always brought back fragmented emotions and memories, making many nights of uneven, broken sleep which had her waking violently in her own sweat-soaked sheets.

\--------------------------------

Anne had spent the previous day traversing downtown Yorkshire socializing with tenants, town clerks, and posh society working her network as broadly as ever. Never a person to miss any opportunity, she met each one with tenacity and focus. Lastly, she met with the local tailor (he owed her family a favor after she lent money when a fire had burned half his shop a few years prior) and he had no choice but to run and cluck along maniacally as Anne quickly and skillfully pulled several pieces from various gowns and demanded he stitch something new together from the assorted fabrics.

“I need this done today, Mr. Gallington."

“Ms. Lister...ah...I cannot. I have two other wedding gowns to prepare by Monday. I simply do not have the time!"

She walked cooly over to him, within inches of his red and blustered face.

“Mr. Gallington. I know you will have the time and means to stitch up these pieces as surely you have required help to assist. I’m sending two of my ladies to offer additional services.” She paused, before continuing. She would use manipulation if it meant getting her way. "After I financially rebuilt your shop, without any necessitated demands to be repaid, because we are understanding and wish to serve our lovely Yorkshire community...” she trailed off slightly, turning around in a slow circle with arms spread outwards, then back to him, dropping her arms and piercing him in the eye squarely, “but I need this completed immediately and this is how you can kindly repay your services for our social at Shibden, to which you're invited, of course, and you can enjoy the details of your glorious handiwork."

“Yes’m, Ms. Lister. I understand.” Begrudgingly, and not without frustration, he accepted.

Briefly, Anne had traveled to Greece, for a few days before moving on, and had recalled being in awe of breastplates worn by ancient warriors and noting, with fascination and intrigue, how many of them were women. Dark leathers with bronzed metal brackets ornately giving the wearer movement, with some protection from arrows, or swords, although not much. Anne appreciated a woman who had to know her skills and not rely on her protective battle gear only.

“What size be the gown, Ms. Lister?” asked Mr. Gallington.

“My size. You have my details.” Anne knew she and Xena were very close to the same height and body type. She knew the dress would fit perfectly well.


	3. No Holds upon the Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xena attends the gala held at Shibden Hall, where Anne Lister is hosting and reading the room of guests, surveying for a particular suitor she admires and Xena must try to blend in, but some unusual guests make an appearance which, in turn, surprises her.

At approximately 4:30, as instructed, Anne’s man-servant knocked on Xena’s door, unsure of what bluster he may receive on the opposite end.

The door opened. His eyes widened slightly. A few awkward moments had come to pass.

“Do you have a problem, Mr. Booth?” Her eyes pierced him like an arrow. The unwanted male gaze was about to put her over the edge. She supposed respectable ladies enjoyed it, but Xena never claimed to be respectable.

“No, ma’am. No, not at all, and my apologies.” He bowed towards her nearly forgetting his manners. Xena rolled her eyes. He abruptly stood up and simply said, “Are you ready, then?”

He began to hold out his arm for her reach, but thought better of it. Instead, he gestured his arm toward the carriage. Xena took the lead, showed herself inside, and he quickly shut the door from behind before jumping up in the driver’s seat to take the reigns. With a sharp crack, the horses began the journey to Shibden Hall.

Xena thought this might be the longest night of her life.

\---------------------

Marian Lister was a bright girl, quite chirpy once she engaged in conversation, and was often frustrated with her sister for refusing to take a less aggressive approach in handling the affairs at Shibden, although the family was quite willing to let Anne handle the dirty work of collecting rents when their land steward had taken ill. Until she found a replacement, she was the “man” of the family to take care of such matters.

“What choice do I have, Marian? Do you want to go hungry without the rents collected? Would another lesser home be suitable? Would you like to take the task at hand instead? Hm?” The stern tone pulled Marian out of her self-righteous stance and she cast a downward eye, before mumbling under her breath.

Anne ignored her. “Now, my dear sister, we have a gala about to begin and I need to make sure everything is in order. I’ll be making the final rounds with the servants, and you can greet the guests first, before I take my turn.” Anne turned and made way to the kitchens.

Marian thought this might be the longest night of her life.

\----------------------

One by one the guests began making their appearances, with Marian making the initial introductions after the footman of each carriage brought them to the main entrance.

There were dignitaries and people of social class here. It was a mixture of business and of pleasure. Anne waited in turn for each guest to step through the hall before making her appearance known. She reached crossed the room with her arm outstretched, delving in for the handshake, no matter if it were a gent or a lady. She chatted with ease and made sure each person had a brandy, a port, a madeira or even tea, if desired.

She turned about-face to finally greet the woman she had been waiting for eagerly this evening - it was Ann Walker. The sweet, naive woman of 29 years who all but seemed to Anne to be emotionally 15, as she was so shy and demure and childlike in her manner. She had money though and Anne Lister knew the young woman with a small smile preferred her over men. She understood it by the expression on her face. She was experienced in these matters and knew when women fancied her. It took nothing more than a bright smile for Ms. Ann Walker to be swooning and ever ready to engage in pleasantries with the formidable Anne Lister. She was intrigued with Ms. Lister, she was.

\------------------------

The carriage had arrived to the main gates of Shibden at 5:00. The footman jumped from his seat and quickly reached to open the carriage door for Xena, but she had beaten him to it. She did, however, accept his hand in the step-down, as the gown she wore was impeding the motions within that confined space.

She looked at him. “Thanks,” she intoned dryly.

“Of course, ma’am” he said in return before taking his station beside her to walk her to the door.

“Greetings! I’m Marian Lister, of Shibden Hall, and welcome to the Gala. So grateful you could attend...” she trailed off. “I’m sorry, ma’am? I know of you. You’re a tenant, are you not, whom provides such delicious staples for our kitchens? I do so greatly apologize for not recalling your name?”

“Xena. It’s Xena Thrace.”

“Yes, Ms...Ms. Thrace, “ puzzling at the last name, which didn’t sound English at all. “Yes, welcome and please step into the main Hall.” Marian directed Xena forward.

Anne Lister broke gaze from her youthful prize momentarily to see Xena step into the Hall. She thought she was a stunning woman, indeed, although she’d never allow Xena privy to it. “Ms. Walker, forgive me. I’ll return momentarily, but I must make my greetings.”

Ann Walker turned to see whom she was referring to. Her heart skipped. The woman standing stiffly awaiting the outstretched hand of Ms. Anne Lister was stunning and so unlike any of the other women she’d laid eyes upon before. Well, except for Anne Lister, perhaps.

\------------------------------

“Ah, hello Ms. Thrace. Why don’t you look...cleaned up.” Anne studied her finely up and down, grazing her eyes over each inch, before continuing, “So glad you’re here.”

“You didn’t offer me much of a choice, Ms. Lister.”

Anne proceeded to ignore the interruption. “You’ll find the dignitaries in the other room, and I shall make your acquaintance with them within the half hour. Meet me in the sitting room when you hear the clock. Care for a drink?”

Before Anne finished the sentence, a servant courting the room with a table tray of port had walked by. Xena lifted one from the tray and took it in one swallow, placed the empty one back and took a new one in its place. Anne Lister was quietly impressed. Xena was not. The port was terrible. Nothing like what back home offered. She needed to drink to keep time passing along.

“See you shortly, then?” but the sentence was more of a command than a question. Anne left Xena abruptly to attend the attentions of her sweet and waiting Ms. Walker. Xena took her drink and aimlessly wandered among the other guests. A few faces were familiar, and she greeted them with politeness, while many others were nothing more than stuffy strangers in fresh powder and the finest of clothing, to whom she chose to ignore. She gracefully crossed the rooms and thought this was beneath her, whereas many of the guest felt the opposite. Who was she to think anything of the sort when, upon her reflection in one of the large wall mirrors, she looked as regal, elegant and, dare she admit to herself, fetching as any of them.

That’s when she saw her. A young, blonde woman speaking to a gentleman on the opposite side of the room. Her flaxen hair pulled up with a few purposeful loose tendrils framing her face. She was smaller, but Xena knew she was strong and fit under the bulky and non-flattering petticoats. As if on cue, the woman, in mid-speech, turned her head directly towards Xena and briefly paused. Green eyes met blue ones. Xena felt something. The blonde woman, aware of her stammering, quickly turned back to the gentleman to reclaim the conversation, but not without another quick glance toward this beautiful woman in a most unusual blue gown which matched her eyes to perfection.

‘Maybe this night will be more pleasant than expected’ Xena thought with a glimmer of hope. 


	4. Who Beguiles the Beautiful?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne Lister and Xena have a confrontation.

Anne kept an eye on Xena with every step she took about the main hall. As she dutifully greeted each person with an earnest warmth and eagerness to converse, make for light entertainment and humor, she had her eye occasionally on the mysterious tenant of hers. Anne certainly found her companion for the evening, Ms. Walker, attractive and felt adored by her, which was well within her ego, per usual, as she most certainly had a way with women. She also noted she did not have a way with Xena and suspected all along Xena was ‘like her’. Her own arrogance and refusal to back down from anyone made her and Xena a complicated set-up, because Anne wanted to get to know the woman better. Xena wasn’t much of a conversationalist and was as arrogant as Anne, or so she appeared to be. For once, in a very long time, Ms. Lister found herself upended by a woman with perhaps more command of a room than she.

It bothered her.

The tall grandfather clock struck its chord. She bade Ms. Walker farewell for the moment to fetch Xena from the crowd of people. It was time to meet the dignitaries and perhaps prime more information from a woefully internal and silent Ms. Thrace.

Known for her quick strides and the ability to cross a room in three paces, she was out of step on this one. She saw Xena had noticed someone else. She followed the eye direction Xena took and they seemed to land on a smaller, blonde woman. She appeared the same age as her Ms. Walker. She had a classic beauty to her face and the vanity of Anne wouldn’t let the blonde have a moment with Xena without intruding upon her first.

She stole the room within 4 strides and quickly interrupted the blonde with the gentleman, known about Paris as Mr. William Lee Virgil. Most of the locals of Paris called him Virgil, as silly as that name seemed to her, but she learned to be on a first name basis with him meant you earned a certain entitlement within the class circles. “Virgil” she claimed in a slightly too-loud tone and turned toward him, dipped her head in a quick nod, and shook his hand. “What an honor to see you again - so glad you came this evening.” She then turned to the blonde, took her hand and placed a light peck on the top of it. “Pleasure is mine, madam. I’m Ms. Anne Lister, the host and proprietor of home and hearth.”

The blonde watched this unfold and was taken off guard by the woman’s character and boldness. And her...her outfit? It was...it was so black and masculine, but it worked for her and no one seemed to notice a thing. “Hello, Ms. Lister...”

“No - please call me Anne. If you’re in the company of Virgil, I insist on first names only.” Again, Anne smiled and made sure it reached her eyes, and with a suggestive twinkle. The blonde, again, was surprised. “Then, I shall start again? My greetings upon you, Anne. I’m Gabrielle Bard, of Athens.”

“Enchanted to meet you, Gabrielle Bard, of Athens,” replied a very intrigued Anne Lister. She chanced a quick exchange of looks with Xena. She momentarily flirted the idea Xena perhaps knew this woman based on the focused, ice-blue stares from her tenant.

Xena had paced a few strides back and forth, in small steps within the crowded room, absorbing all the visual information of one very intrusive Anne Lister. Of course she’d make headway with every person at the gala, yet she felt...she felt...what did she feel lurking beneath her breast the moment Anne made contact and kissed the top of the blonde woman's right hand? Jealousy?

Yes, jealousy, it was.

\------------------------

“Virgil, when you have a moment, I’d love for you to meet Ms. Thrace. She hails from Greece and may be of interest to you, since you have dealings in that part of the world. May I introduce?” But not waiting for an answer, she snapped her fingers up at Xena, who stood tall and erect, watching this scenario play out. She didn’t like to be snapped at like a dog to be commanded. At that exact moment, Ms. Walker gently tapped behind Xena's left shoulder. Xena twisted herself around and stared into the soft and warm face of another Ann. This one she liked much better.

“Hello. I’m Ms. Ann Walker, of Crow Nest, in Lightcliffe, and I wanted to make your acquaintance, if you please.”

“I know who you are. I’ve seen you about town in Halifax when I go to the markets or on occasions as necessitated. I also know of your name from the newspapers.” Thinking that may have sounded rude, she held out her hand in greeting and said in a softer voice, making sure her blue eyes lit up with a smile, “I’m Xena Thrace, from Greece originally, now a renter of Ms. Lister. Please call me Xena.” As she took the petite hand within her own, she quickly turned over Ms. Walker’s hand, and gave it a quick peck, mirroring what Anne Lister had done to the blonde she so gallantly strode upon.

“Xena Thrace from Greece - you sound like someone I should like to get to know better!” said Ms, Walker as she returned smiling eyes back to the woman who stood so beautifully before her.

\-------------------------

Anne Lister watched this unfold in front of her, which felt awkwardly too long. Did she just kiss the top of her hand? Anne was unsettled. She was the host and she should command the presence of people, not be ignored. She didn’t enjoy seeing Xena mingling with Ann. She felt this was encroaching on her territory. This imposing, tall figure of a woman, with the blue Grecian dress she had made specifically for her, in order to enchant and possibly glean financial information from Virgil in some important business dealings. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She didn’t like it one bit. What was she feeling? Jealousy?

Yes, jealousy, it was.


	5. When in Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A foreign dignitary wants to meet Xena, but Xena has her sights elsewhere. Anne is feeling a rival in Xena, and is none-to-pleased with competition.

Another dignitary, this one from Rome, whom had been seated upon the couch in the smoking room, took leave of his cigar and brandy momentarily to glance upwards. He was instantly intrigued by the tall woman in a deep cerulean blue dress, although it was different from anything he’d seen in this part of the world, yet familiar with striking patterns embroidered perfectly to enhance her...features. He was young, handsome, with a fierce glint in his eye and the slightest of upturned smiles. He was arrogant. He was a man of presence and power who knew how to command an audience with the slightest of expressions and gestures. He didn’t mince words, either.

He arose from his station of the surrounding gentleman conversing on the latest trade deals, or where the best coal pits were located, and on which properties to exploit the owners to either sell or dig, as his attentions turned toward this exotic woman who stood in a tiny waiting area for another drink, oblivious to anyone else around her. She seemed preoccupied, or bored, and he thought he might be the best person to remedy the situation.

Xena was assessing her situation here in Shibden Hall. She felt something dig inside her soul upon seeing the blonde woman in the gathering room. The attentions of a Ms. Ann Walker were a welcome reprieve after many dry months of loneliness. These tumbling thoughts were rapidly unfolding in her head. She was also caught off guard by the pointed, fiery stares of one Anne Lister. Two women, one night and Xena was most definitely distracted. She didn’t care for the daggers Anne Lister threw her way when she spoke to Ms. Walker, but with the mutual animosity between them, she felt satisfaction about it. She certainly didn’t care for the way Ms. Lister practically threw herself at this mystery blonde, either. None of it made any sense to her.

“If I may be so bold to say...,” he began. He made sure he blocked her entrance from the small room she was standing in. Startling Xena from her reverie, she felt the one emotion she knew too well as of late. Irritation. Again, Xena may have been used to the hunted stares of men, by their boldness to stride toward her without reading her emotional signals, but she didn’t wish to be bothered. Certainly not by this man, or any other man. Her sights were elsewhere.

She turned to him, gave him a light nod of her head and said, “With due respect, it is bold of you to say, and I take kindly to letting me pass.” Xena was equally and unapologetically bold herself, unpredictable even and it often surprised men and women alike.

“Of course, Xena. I apologize. By all means.” He calmly gestured his arm to give her room and side-stepped so she could pass the space between them. ‘He’s not sorry’ she thought.

She began to say something else, but stopped. She surveyed at him suspiciously.

“How did you know my name?”

He smiled.

“Word travels fast in Shibden Hall. Many of us have been told who you are. No one knows much about you. I’d enjoy learning more about you, Xena. Are you in such a hurry to...to leave,” he looked around at the small unoccupied room they stood in, noting there was no servant nearby, “that you wouldn’t have time for a few moments to make proper acquaintances? You also seem in need of a drink.” He pointed at her empty glass.

This man bothered Xena. She felt it in her bones. He said her name twice now. They were not on familiar terms for this language. “As you know my name, what's yours?” she commanded. Xena was in no mood. She dreaded these occasions of small talk and banter and idle chit-chat from men who valued the beauty of her face over her intellect. She was preoccupied with other subjects anyway and two here in Shibden truly inspired her, and this man was not one of them.

“I’m Julius, a dignitary of Rome, and I’m on state business here in England to purchase coal pits for exports. While on business, I received an invite from Ms. Lister and decided to make good use of pursuing business arrangements with a few other...guests here. In fact, they’re over there, in the main hall, standing at the far wall. I’m sure they’d enjoy meeting the likes of you."

‘The likes of you’ Xena noted, unsure if she was pleased or not with the way he spoke the sentence.

Xena turned away from him and followed the line of sight where his finger pointed. It was toward the blonde woman still seemingly engaged in conversation with Ms. Lister, and the gentleman in the coat and tails. From behind, she could barely distinguish the two apart, except Ms. Lister had two perfectly coifed curls on either side of her face, just below her hat.

\---------------

“You know her?” Xena asked.

“Ah, yes, the renowned Ms. Lister. Who *doesn’t* know her?” Julius cocked his head to the side with a twist of a smile. “Yes, she travels often and alone, save for a footman or a lady servant, and commands the attention of many."

Xena was still transfixed staring toward the women, her penetrating blue eyes never wavering from them. Instantly, Julius understood. 'Another one like Ms. Lister, it seems', he thought. He decided to play her to confirm his suspicions. 

“Ah, let me guess. My intrusion upon your personal space is unwanted because the person you really desire to meet is...” nodding his head in the direction of Xena’s unwavering stare, “...is her. Who doesn’t want to meet the riveting Ms. Lister, with her tales of travel and stories to leave you gasping for more. Especially if you’re of the fairer sex.” He kept that strange smile on his face and dipped his head down a bit to meet her in the eyes, casting a knowing glance at her. He winked.

Xena was losing patience. Although she understood his subtle jab, he was still mistaken. It wasn’t Ms. Lister she had her attentions on. It was the other female companion. However, she said nothing more about it nor would she reveal any innuendo to this...this Julius, from Rome, who seemed to have no true understanding of the ‘fairer sex’ then she did of ‘less fairer sex'.

“As much pleasure as I had talking with you, Julius, I’m leaving you in the capable hand of these gentlemen as I find my drink. I’m sure we’ll pass circles before the night is through."

He had a plotting twinkle in his eye, with a half smirk/half smile, she couldn’t decipher.

“Yes, I’m most sure we will.” He gave a quick nod of his head and turned back toward the smoking room.

\----------------------------

Xena finally located a servant with a whisky tray, and reached for one instead of the port. It tasted significantly better. She took two quick sips and decided to face away from the animated motions of Ms. Lister’s incessant chatter with her new found guests. As she turned, she found herself looking at the angelic face of Ms. Ann Walker. Ms. Walker carried a brandy in her hand and looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Are you as thrilled to be here as I am, Xena?"

Xena found the comment amusing. “No, this night will never end, I should think. Hence, the bourbon!"

The two shared a genuine chuckle and stood side-by-side, both having turned back around to keep visual tabs on Ms. Lister and the mysterious guests.


	6. Room with a View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne reads the room, but cannot read Xena. Xena meets the blonde woman and Anne is decidedly unsure if she wants to pursue Gabrielle or Ann Walker.

Anne, still in animated motion and chattering with Gabrielle and Virgil, would occasional steal glances to look for Xena. She noticed she had disappeared from the main hall and Ann Walker was missing from her line of sight, too. She didn’t think kindly of her tenant disregarding her orders for the meet and greet with upstanding people of character and financial bearing.

When she did see them standing together, a drink in hand, staring at her in return, she felt some relief, and then a flush of anger as Xena had not come when beckoned. She excused herself from the company of Gabrielle and Virgil to march quickly in the direction of Xena and Ann, seeing them lightly laughing about something.

“See you two have met. Enjoying each other?” Xena cast a sharp look at Anne. “Didn’t take you long, did it?" Anne, never one to back down, cast the look back as if a reflection. “I told you to come when I called for you, Ms. Thrace.”

“You mean, when you snapped your fingers at me, Ms. Lister?”

Ann Walker was uncomfortable. She held the affections for Anne, but found herself intrigued with Xena and she felt Anne suspected it, too.

Anne turned to the demure namesake and gave her a look of disappointment.

\----------------------

The tension and animosity thickly surrounded the three women, but Anne needed to control this situation quickly. She snatched up Ann’s arm and looped it within her own, and with her other hand, cane clutching to it still, poked at Xena so she would face the guests she’d been ogling through most of the evening. She could not afford to have this moment ruined by this upstart of a woman. Anne Lister would prove herself yet.

Anne hissed, “You want to meet her, Xena, let’s do it then, shall we? If you’re not becoming of a lady, I will take certain measures to replace your services upon my land."

Xena was angry. She was torn between being compliant and wanting to pull the same move on Anne Lister as she did on Ares. ‘Wouldn’t that be a show for the ages here at Shibden’ she mused. As she was pushed and prodded forward, giving her no choice but to stumble toward the woman with the blonde locks and the green emerald eyes, Anne Lister pulled quickly to the side of Xena and smiled as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Virgil and Gabrielle, I’d like you to meet Ms. Xena Thrace. She’s a tenant of mine, with no social standing, poor dear, but does produce some of the finest horses and table eggs any landlord could want.” 

In retort, Xena bowed deeply before Gabrielle and Virgil as if they were royal subjects. This irritated Anne.

Likewise, Anne irritated Xena by insulting and insinuating she was nothing more than a work horse on *her* land, no more capable of being upright or managing basic hen laying. Another threat again from the landlord to whom she provided nothing but hard work, quality horses and fresh food.

“I should think Ms. Lister sees me more valuable than that given she invited me to this soiree of hers to meet with you.” Xena was cold. “She even hand-picked this dress for me. I should say she likes me quite a bit, in spite of herself."

Annoyed, Anne Lister tapped her cane three times on the floor to distract the others from this slow spiral of disgrace. “She does look dazzling, doesn’t she Virgil?” She continued, with all intensity upon her latest interest in the moment. “Gabrielle, you’re from Greece. I’ve visited your country once and found it fascinating and enchanting, much as I do you. I know a bit of Greek history, and I understand you're a masterful story teller. Perhaps you’ll charm me with one?"

Gabrielle nodded politely at Ms. Lister, not wishing to disappoint. She had been bedazzled by the charms and graces of Anne, indeed, as she was always enamored of strong and independent women. She admired them deeply and felt connected to them, perhaps because she longed for a similar life and lifestyle. “Of course, Anne, I’d be pleased. I write poetry, books and often organize plays based on ancient Greek texts. I’m pleased you find them fascinating."

Ms. Walker wasn’t sure how this was turning out and felt stung by the competition she felt growing between Anne and Xena over this new blonde rival of hers.

Anne wasn’t that impressed by theater often, but she would show her repertoire of knowledge if need be. She did care about whom she might bed that night. An intelligent, regal woman such as she wouldn’t go to an empty bed.

Gabrielle turned to gaze up at the statuesque Ms. Thrace. A feminine/masculine beauty unlike anyone she’d encountered before. 'By God, she’s stunning,’ she inwardly gawked.

“I’m ever so pleased to meet you, Ms. Thrace, “ Gabrielle paused before continuing, glancing at Anne, then her attentions back to Xena. “Thrace is a Grecian name. So, were you born there?” She smiled slightly boring those green, sharp eyes into Xena’s blue ones. 

Ms. Walker was put off by all of this. Though she may be demure and regarded as shy to many, inside she had a steel resolve and didn’t like to be toyed with at the expense of others. “Ms. Lister, I think I shall take my leave.” Anne quickly turned to her, kissed the top of her hand, in the same manner she did Gabrielle’s, and with that flashing smile of hers said, “My dearest Ann. Please do not leave. I should be unrelentingly saddened for the remainder of the evening knowing you had left, and especially if you left displeased. Accept my apologies for my earlier remarks and stay. Just a bit longer.” Anne’s own resolve was beginning to wear thin. She had practiced her own ego for too long and it bested her at times.

\---------------------------------

There was an unexpected knock at the front main door. The servant, on hand, was one of the kitchen staff, Ms. Elizabeth Cordingly. She wasn’t expecting anymore guests this evening, as the gala was well under way. She went to retrieve the door open and there stood, a most unexpected visitor.

“Ms. Hobart! How’dya do, ma’am? Please come in, aye.” Vere Hobart. This would be a surprise indeed. Elizabeth wasn’t supposed to be privy to who was on the guest list, but she managed to see it lying on the chest of drawers, in the waiting area, and took a quick glance. She didn’t recall seeing her name on the list. Wasn’t she married? Where was her husband?

“Is Ms. Lister expectin’ ya, Ms. Hobart?” Elizabeth was trying to be coy as possible.

“No, she is not, but I am in the place of my husband, who’s away, and thought I’d stop in to say hello. We go way back and hoped she might not mind me here in his stead. It’s been a long while since we have seen each other."

“Ms. Lister is busy with the many guests, but I’m sure her eye will find you. It always had before.” 

Vere looked embarrassed, quickly glancing away, nerves tingling in her chest.

“Ma’am, let me fetch you some brandy. Be back in spiff!"

\---------------------------

Vere took the brandy and positioned herself where she could mingle without being noticed, clutching to the shadows on the outside edges of the large hall. She looked about and saw Anne immediately. She saw Anne surrounded by three uniquely attractive and attentive women and one stately, handsome gentleman. She smiled. Oh, her dearest Anne Lister, never one to shy away from the ladies. She took her time watching the scenario unfold. One looked fetching in a blue gown of the most unusual construction. Another blonde woman with pretty, delicate curls was looking upset, another smaller blonde woman with a gentleman were looking...perhaps awkwardly uncomfortable from this angle? It was difficult to tell and she couldn’t read Anne’s face because her back was to her. The conversation seemed intense even from her impressions.

Anne turned about in a huff, flustered with the behavior of the striking woman in blue. Her eyes grazed the room, looking for an out perhaps, another drink perhaps, or to collect herself. Vere knew this woman well and could see something was off. She hoped her appearance would make things better.

She took a sip of brandy and raised her glass upwards hoping to get Anne’s attention.

\-----------------------------------------

Anne saw a raised glass and looked down to the face of the person carrying it.

“Oh my God..."


	7. Then there were Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne’s reaction upon seeing a former lover, but not just any lover. She was the love of her life.

“Oh my dear Lord, “ she muttered under sharpened breath. “What is she *doing* here and especially after what she put me through. The complete ignorance or complete vanity of that woman, only a doctor of the psychological kind could assess.” Her mind was an uncaged animal. She was delighted, she was angry, she was deeply upset, and mostly she wanted to run. The emotions betrayed the thoughts of any logic. She was in a dizzying circle of varied women’s interests and the assorted temperaments that came with each one. She could hardly register the nonsensical mess this night had become.

She had her tenant stabbing blue pricks of ice and annoyance in her direction, and she had not one, but two blonde women talking to each other to sort out some sense of ease within the growing discomfort flowing through them all. Her financial interest, Virgil, appeared obtuse and oblivious to the drama and seemed to find Ms. Thrace an object of his particular interest. She duly noted the interest wasn’t returned, as Xena preoccupied herself with both Gabrielle and Ann between glaring looks toward herself and Vere. And then there was Vere, a long-lost, bittersweet love of her life, dazzling her doe-brown eyes in her direction. It was like looking from the expanse of a bubble about to pop. The encased image of herself and the gaggle of women she’d rounded up, but without the foggiest idea how to diffuse gathering emotions within herself. She felt small. This wasn’t a feeling she handled well.

Vera kept the glass raised and smiled lightly toward Anne, seeing she was on the receiving end of her attentions. Anne’s kitchen maid was correct. She’d spot her in a den of frenzy if she had too. Anne wasn’t moving her way. Vera looked further past Anne to see three women and a man within her current circle. So, Vera, choosing to be forward, even if she was of high status and married, walked toward Anne. Oh, this wasn’t becoming of a lady, as the guest should mingle and have the host greet her. Not this time. Vera wasn’t going to pass this night through without revealing her feelings and speaking to the woman she still loved.

“Oh, dear Lord, she’s coming my way.” Anne was momentarily stifled, but snapped and quickly went on the move. Without saying a word to Xena, Ann, Gabrielle, or to Virgil, she was like a moth to an old flame and time fell away as she desired to flit dangerously about the heat source uncaring if she was burned. Again.

“Vere. Vere.” she clucked, "My, my. How good you look this evening and, might I include in spite of your refined looks of elegance, your soft eyes and wispy tendrils of hair, you’re betrothed...and....and...why are you here? Is your...” she paused, the tone of disgust in her voice, ..."your husband with you?” She took off her top hat and held it in one hand, while she bore her weight on the cane with her other hand. Vera noted the elegance, the masculine undertones of the mannerism and it caught her breath.

“How do you do, Anne.” Her voice soft as the underside of a kitten as she purred her way into Anne’s headspace. 

“I’m dandy, Vera, can’t you see? Isn’t it obvious?” She raised her arm and gestured in a semi-circle, the animated Anne besting collected Anne. Sarcasm. The usual front Anne regarded when she was bothered.

Vere continued, taking in the entirety of one flustered Anne Lister. “I came on my own accord. I came to see you. I apologize if my appearance has left you unsettled...”

“Of course your appearance has left me unsettled!” Anne’s voice rose sharply. She quickly glanced around seeing a few guests with their attentions on her. She turned her head towards Vera and returned to a softer register with an insincere smile wagering on her lips. She wanted to keep people out of the conversation. She took Vera by the forearm and led her into a side cove of the room, where no one could hear. Surely Ann Walker would notice. Surely Xena Thrace would, too.

“Anne, I wanted to see you after you came to my wedding. You left having the last word, as you are inclined to do. I know I’m not a brave woman such as yourself. This is my way of being brave - by being here. Seeing you across the room made my heart leap from my breast. You are stunning, Anne, you truly are.” She stopped giving pause to the moment. "It appears I’m not the only one to notice these qualities in you.” She tilted her eyes in the direction of Ms. Walker, who was, by now, furiously staring them down.

“Well, my dearest Vera, why couldn’t you have said those things a year ago? Hm? It might have been another story unfolding this night had you the courage, or bravery, as you say, to remind me of my dashing looks and temptress manner when I fell apart in your lap. I sobbed, Vera, for days. You utterly shattered me.”

Anne had to turn toward the small coven of guests she had left in her wake. She could see Ann Walker darting glances her way. She knew she was upset. She saw Xena, Gabrielle and Virgil in mid-conversations while looking her way on occasion, undoubtedly talking about her. What else was new. She was used to the gossip and rarely had it bothered her. Until now. This made her feel inwardly clumsy, but the heartbreak of Vere had left her stewing in bitterness, broken and cold. She was interested in Xena, but it passed when she realized they were too similar and the unease between them made matters more troubling than appealing. Gabrielle loved women, too. She knew it immediately, but she felt Ms. Thrace had that little blonde in her bullseye, and...what was Anne thinking? Why was she playing the deck of cards like a throw away poker game? Because a Jack was speaking with her Queen and, as of now, not even a forlorn Ann Walker was enough to pull her back from the enchantments of Vera Holbart. She knew better, but her heart would have nothing to do with logic. She tailspinned to Vere.

“I’ve so missed you. Dare I say, I still agonize over you, but I’m angry, I’m hurt, and damn it all to hell, you married a *man* against the better judgment of yourself and you left me. You simply left me, Vere. I’ve been forced to move on, as I stood at the church pew, keeping the tears at bay, watching you place your lips and commitment to that man of yours. Yet, I’m most happy to see you, but I’ll be nothing more than a friend.” She looked Vere up and down thoroughly. “And you are privileged for that much!”

Vere understood her words. She touched Anne on the topside of her hand. Anne flinched so suddenly her arm reeled back. The passion she felt for Vere had never left. She had lost all control of her resolve and this night was cascading bullets down upon her.

\---------------------------


	8. Chapter 8

Ann and Xena were chatting, watching this exchange unfold, albeit minus the sound. Anne and Vere seemed to be having a go of it, but it was clear there was some unrequited tension in the air. Xena found this gala to be more entertaining than she imagined. Ms. Lister was wrong. Xena was far from being the center of attention, or how did she put it in her note when the dress arrived? ‘An interesting source of entertainment for our guests’ or something to that effect. Truth is, Ms. Lister was doing perfectly well on her own in that category.

Xena noticed the young woman was flustered, distracted and upset. “She’s distracted herself, you know” speaking on Anne’s behalf. “She’s emotionally greedy and has too much on her plate, but I will say this, even if she and I see eye to eye on many subjects, but go about our dealings differently, I think I have a plan for you to assist her to come to a decision.” Xena hesitated before saying the next thought. "Do you fancy her, Ms. Walker?”

Xena was probing. Ms. Walker shot her a look of surprise. Xena wasn’t going to get in the way of anything, or anyone, whom may be of interest to a temperamental Anne Lister. They really were two birds of a similar feather. Besides, she had a particular interest to this Gabrielle Bard, from Greece, as well as Virgil, having not seen a soul from her homeland in nearly 2 years. She had her focus elsewhere, but wanted to help collect Ann from the proverbial floor and assist her in finding her inner source, her voice and use it to catch a rattled Anne Lister off guard.

“Ms. Walker, I ask again, are you taken with her? More than just a momentary fling of emotions because she’s different from the rest of the well-to-do made up ladies around Halifax...” she paused, looking at Ann who looked a clone like the rest of them. “My apologies. I meant no slight to you, but how you can be different is by being bold. She needs someone to tamp her down. Trust me on this. I would know.” Xena flashed a quick smile and in a low voice, spoke of her plan. “You’re going to throw her game."

Ann could hardly believe her ears. She wasn’t sure if she were capable of so bold a maneuver. Initially it unnerved her. However, this mysterious Xena had a point. Deep down, Ann wasn’t like the norm. She craved the touch of a woman. She may not look the part of Anne Lister, but she wanted to be with Anne Lister. She took another brandy from a passing servant, gulped it down in one swig, waited a moment to steady herself, and made due with the plan.

\--------------------

Anne was livid at herself for having such a visceral reaction to Vere. She was angry with Vere for being entirely too forward with her. While Anne was often inappropriate in her dealings, this was off the rails for Vere to do, at her Gala, without a proper invite, and of all things to adoringly address her with the sweet nothings of yesteryear where it no longer mattered. She had abandoned her dear Ann Walker without so much of a thought and regretted it.

Someone was tapping on her shoulder behind her. Anne pivoted around. There stood Ms. Walker, color flushing her cheeks and a fierce and determined look set upon her face. “Ms. Lister. I believe you owe me a dance. If you feel you can tear yourself away from this woman, then I shall take your hand and you may grace me with your attentions. I shan’t take no for an answer, nor will I have you disrespect me by speaking to her again.” Then she moved herself around Anne to position her in front of Vere. Startling everyone in their vicinity, Ms. Walker leaned in for a kiss on Vere’s lips. She briefly tasted her. Vere was stunned into submission. “Ah, I see why Anne finds you alluring with your strawberry scent and your charming graces, however, I know you’re married and, more so yet, Ms. Lister has moved on," she said nodding toward Anne. “She’s moved on with me. You can kindly direct yourself to your footman, and show yourself to your carriage. Good evening to you, Ms. Hobart, or is it Mrs. Cameron these days? Anne, you’re coming with me.” With that said, she grabbed Anne’s hand, into her own, and directed her to where couples were dancing to the tune of a waltz.

Anne was shocked and tight-lipped. Two traits not normal within her personality. She passed a quick look back to Vere who stood ashamed and nearly in tears. She turned toward the direction of Xena and guests, to find Xena smiling her way and mouthing, “You’re welcome.”

\------------------------

“Tell me, Gabrielle, what brings you here from Greece?”

“I came with Virgil to document business dealings. Can’t ever be too careful and always best to have an agreement on paper and with all parties signatures. That’s what I do for him.” Xena wondered if they were a couple.

“I see. Are you also in the business of coal? Virgil mentioned briefly about some business propositions and I know this area is filled with coal waiting to be collected and shipped to various areas, locally, as well as overseas. That’s the only export I can possibly think of...unless my egg-laying hens interest you?”

Gabrielle let out a small laugh, enchanted by this tall, sculpted woman.

“Yes, I’m quite interested in your exports and hens...” good Lord, what did she just say? How could she tidy up that last sentence which virtually drooled an invite to bed? “...hence, why I find you humorous and intriguing and a hopeful business associate.” She focused her bright, green eyes into Xena’s and gave a look of piqued curiosity beyond any notion of chickens. Clearly her last sentence did nothing to assuage her budding desires toward Xena. Xena smiled. Gabrielle continued hoping for a distraction from Xena’s perfect smile, "In fact, we are here to speak to Ms. Lister about her land. She has a great deal amount of coal, but we’ve had trouble with her varied commitments.” In hushed tone she went on, “She’s been rather...busy, you know,” winking at Xena. "We are suited to pay her handsomely as the coal tested from a nearby source was one of the cleanest and purest we’ve obtained. We need permits to enter her land premises to check again. It could be a lucrative profit for us both.”

“Interesting, indeed. You’re a playwright, a documenting bookkeeper and business-partner with Virgil; a savvy, intelligent woman, you are. You know, Gabrielle, I happen to live and work on a plot of land she owns and I’m happy to grant you access, in private, if you wish. There are a few caverns in that area that enable one to enter far enough down to check for coal sources without any endangerment. Do me just one small favor. Don’t mention my invite to her just yet.”


	9. Tell No One Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xena invites Gabrielle to explore the coal mining possibilities on Anne’s land.

Gabrielle softly knocked on Xena’s rustic little farm house on this odd plot of land, which seemed barren save for a small stable and arena for raising horses, a chicken coup, but a fairly decent vegetable garden with an array fresh produce perfectly kept and positioned in a way so each crop benefited the other. This was a smart woman and she knew exactly how to expertly gain the most from so very little.

Gabrielle knew a thing about farming herself. She was no stranger to rustic farm life, though the adventurous spirit lived in her, too. There was something alluring about traveling the world and exposing oneself to new cultures, new ideologies, new foods. However, as she gently rapped on Xena’s door, she felt a comfortable familiarity of farm life, of wanting to become settled eventually, and how wonderful to be settled on a piece of land to farm again, similar to Xena’s situation...except with a partner in love and life. Gabrielle was lonely during these long travels abroad. She had kept the company of a few women here and there, but no one well enough to secure a life with. Greece was far more tolerant of these relationships, but she thought something must be unpleasant about her for no-one to take notice of her in that way. She had some male relations, but it was awkward and uncomfortable, and though she tried to play the part, they never ended well. She dropped the pretense and held her focus on her preference of soft touches, kisses and tender love-making for the one woman she would wait her life for...if she ever came.

The door opened. The blonde locked eyes onto Xena’s, noticing how flawless and beautiful she was. Her raven hair and electric blue eyes nearly knocked her over. She was exotic to some extent, but also because of her strong personality countered by a tender heart. She knew Xena was as tough as they come, but no one cares for their animals and crops without a soft heart. A gentle touch is always needed to be successful in order to accommodate unforgiving land or unpredictable weather events.

“Glad you’re here, come on in, “ Xena said as she left the door open for Gabrielle to enter through. She strode to the table where she had already spread out large papers across it. “Okay, so here's the maps I’ve drawn out from my inspections of this land...”

“Xena, wait a moment. Whilst I’m pleased to explore the caverns which may, or may not, contain sizable coal concentrations, I feel this is wrong without Anne’s knowledge. Why do you refuse to say anything to her?”

Xena hesitated, thinking of a dignified way to say blackmail without using the word ‘blackmail'.

“I think she’d be greatly pleased if she realized the extent of her coal reserves. I know she’s familiar with a few places within her land, but I’ve heard access is difficult and other competitive business partners flooded one of her coal shafts, out of petty revenge, to make it unaffordable for repair. I also know, much to her chagrin, she needs a hefty amount of money to update Shibden, which is in dire need of repairs. I could help her with repairs, but she’d expect it for little payment and so I haven’t made mention I’m quite skilled with a tool belt. I discovered a few caverns rich with coal, but didn’t speak of it to her, hoping I may use that to my securities in maintaining my rental agreements without her continued threats over me. If she gets a strong share of money for this access, she might be pleased, or, I could be the one whom brought it to her competitor’s attention, and I could easily have them access this land without her knowledge. She rarely comes to that section since the area is inhospitable by foot and you’d need solid and steady work horses, surefooted horses, to be able to carry needed equipment hauls to the caverns. I happen to have many skills and have raised strong horses perfect for the job.”

“Xena, how can you be sure bribery is the answer? It’s illegal and, admittedly, I’m comfortable with this arrangement. I’ve worked hard to secure trust in my acquisitions with my clients. Besides, this is her land and you, as a tenant, would have little control over financial agreements just because you made her aware of coal pits with easy access. You have little to no guarantee she’d honor any request of yours if she suspects a bribe.”

“That’s where you and Virgil come in. I’d ask for a small compensation, enough to purchase my own plot of land, and get out from her tenancy free and clear, in exchange for her vast and newly found riches from these pits. I also know how to dig a coal pit and I’d save her the expense of many laborers, unskilled ones, or worse, child laborers. I’d ask for compensation for the people I choose to hire and a comfortable amount of money for this mutual consent and agreement. She’d be a fool not to oblige me. I asked around, and I’m aware how much it costs to sink a coal pit. She doesn’t have the money. I have the tools, access to some basic machinery, and the means of my expertise to do it for her, virtually for free. The coal isn’t that far out of reach. It’s doable. You and Virgil would pay her a pretty pence for the coal, if you see fit for its quality, and everyone here makes profit. I don’t ask what is more than necessary. I want enough for financial freedom. You’d draw up papers for signatures, thus, enabling me to have some financial access due to my ‘cheap and affordable skills’ compared to her competitors. I’ve even managed to suss out what I think she’d make from the profits of one pit alone.”

Gabrielle had to hand it to Xena. She’d done some homework. Anne Lister would certainly be in a financial position to afford upkeep and updates to her properties, and she was aware Anne was denied a bank loan to sink a rather lowly and risky coal pit already. She had her sources, too, and word travels fast.

“Let’s see the coal. If it’s high in quality, and our business can profit, as well as spread the wealth to Anne, and then some to you, perhaps this could work. We need to see the grade and amounts first.”

Xena shook her head in agreement. “I know if Anne finds out I’ve been talking with you, she’ll dig her heels in on this. Even if she could make profit, she doesn’t care for me. We have a fractured and interesting relationship. I’m hoping the likes of Ms. Ann Walker may assuage her concerns. Ann is a wealthy woman. If they decide upon a relationship, this could go one of two ways. Anne could decide she doesn’t need my affordable assistance as she could afford anyone she wanted, and then I lose. Or, Ms. Walker could charm her into doing the more charitable of the two scenarios and offer to assist me to become my own land owner. I know my diligent work helps to profit them greatly. I’d not leave my tenancy until I found and trained a suitable renter to take my place.”

Gabrielle turned away from Xena, her hand resting on one cheek, deep in thought. “How do I explain to Anne I was upon her property without permission, if we find the coal is exceptional?”

“I’m hoping that my speaking with Ms. Walker first will help temper any concerns or feelings of animosity of planning this behind her back.” She was aware the heiress was taken by one dominating, vastly intelligent and skilled negotiator by the name of Anne Lister. A woman similar to herself she’d even say.

“Xena, this is not how I normally do business. It’s not like me at all...”

Xena gingerly stepped into Gabrielle’s space, near the table. "I’d not ask for anything more than to be able to afford a stable future for myself. She’ll be rich one way or the other. I’d like to go back to Greece one day, make a home there again, own some land, and live my life in relative quiet and freedom. Something I need to do for myself. I’d also enjoy the comfort and love of a woman. Perhaps one I could live out my days with...” she noticed Gabrielle flickered her eyes into hers, but quickly looked away, as if caught...."and I’m only asking for enough compensation given I discovered her inherent wealth unbeknownst to her. That must be deserving of something.”

Her piercing blue eyes peered deeply into Gabrielle’s green ones. There was a connection. She felt something the other night, at the Gala, and something inside her believed Gabrielle preferred the company of women...or more likely, might prefer the company of her.

“Let me speak with Virgil. I’ll be in contact soon. Good day, Ms. Thrace.” She said the words of formality towards Xena, but stepped into her personal space, gently took her hand, placed a firm squeeze into it before she placed a supple a kiss on top. Xena shuddered. How unexpected a move and it took Xena by surprise. Very few people took Xena by surprise.


	10. Rivalry from the Gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne Lister learns of Xena’s plans and things don’t go as intended.

“How DARE you make such demands from me, Ms. Thrace...” snarled a tight-jawed Anne Lister.

She cornered her in the small farmhouse Xena lived in. She held her cane up, beneath Xena’s jaw, livid with emotion. “You think you can best me from my own land? You utterly moronic woman, threatening to have my rivals saturate my coal reserves if I don’t live up to your demands of payment? You really believe I’d share any of this with you?"

Xena walked slowly backward as Anne still, with clenched jaws, followed her about the kitchen table, cane still positioned in a manner of great harm if she intended.

“I think you’ve misunderstood, Anne...”

“It’s Ms. Lister, you lowly and subordinate tenant!”

“Who told you what you heard...Ms. Lister?” Xena hesitated with purpose when saying her name as you’d might in polite circles. None of this was remotely polite at this moment.

“Oh, wouldn’t you just love to know how I learn my sources, Ms. Thrace. Why ever would I appease you? Let’s say I have firmly established roots and nothing escapes my attentions. After nearly 2 years, I’d have thought you’d know me better by now. I’ve gone out of my way to see you’re provided with more than needed accommodations in all facets of manner, and this is how you say ’thank you’”?

This wasn’t turning out how Xena thought it might.

“I have thanked you by providing you quality of land that affords you the finest of horses and various staples, A...Ms. Lister, as well as I’ve discovered rich quality coal beds right here upon the land I work for you. I think you should know me better than that by now.” She suspected who may have ill-informed her of her plans to access the coal pits.

\-----------------------

Gabrielle arrived by carriage to Crow Nest to assuage upon Ms. Walker the benefit if the doubt of Xena’s proposal, in hopes she might see that all would benefit in the plan to extract the coal using Xena’s small and affordable work force. She felt Ms. Walker to be an intelligent woman as well as one with enormous insights and could diffuse a temperamental Ms. Lister, if need be.

The large double doors opened, and a footman greeted her inside, took her cloak and showed her to where Ann was waiting.

“Ms. Walker, greetings, and thank you for seeing me this afternoon.”

Ann Walker turned to face Gabrielle, but without the usual pleasantries in return.

“What do you think you’re doing with Ms. Lister’s coal? You plan to purchase at the lowest market value, afford yourself and Xena a sizable gain, and sell said coal to your competitors for profit? I’m wealthy, you know. Ms. Lister doesn’t need your services in order to get the most from her coal. She never made any formal arrangements with Virgil on the matter.”

Gabrielle was taken aback. When did she see Virgil?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m open for critique and feedback because I’m stretching my wings here with writing. Thanks, everyone!


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